


Madness

by Divergent_shadow12



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood Lust, Drinking, Insanity, M/M, Murder, Revenge, Sex, knifes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1506197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Divergent_shadow12/pseuds/Divergent_shadow12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson spent a year, isolating himself from the world, slowing going mad. He didn't realize just how bad things had gotten until a one night stand turned into murder, and then into a serial Killing spree. Will Sherlock Holmes come for him? Will John get caught and thrown in Jail? How long will John keep killing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Kill

“Sherlock!” John screamed, reaching his hand out as if that would stop the man from plummeting off the roof. John began to run getting knocked over and pulling himself up as quickly as he could, running over to the bloody body of his best friend. “Move, Please, thats my friend” he gasped pushing through the bodies and kneeling to feel for a pulse. The onlookers pulled him away as the body was picked up and placed on a gurney and wheeled away. 

John gasped sitting straight up in his bed, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair. It had been a year since Sherlock jumped from the roof of Bart’s to his death, a year of Isolation from his friend, from his job and the world. He spent many nights in a pub, drowning himself in alcohol, drinking until the he was numb tonight had been no different, except for on thing, tonight he had brought someone back to Baker street. The man beside him looked like Sherlock, same curly dark hair and high cheekbones, the only difference was the eyes a dark brown color, the color of mud just after a hard rain. The man stretched rolling over and placing a hand on John’s arm,  
“Hey are you okay?” he asked looking up at him. 

John shook his head and scooted away from the bed grabbing his pants and slipping them back on. He stood and padded to the door opening it, a slight frown crossing his features as he looked at the man laying in the bed “I think you should leave now” he said his voice low. The man looked up at him and stood moving to stand in front of John, 

“Come on John, Let me tak your mind off it” he said moving to wrap his arms around Johns’ waist and leaning down to press kisses to his neck. John growled gripping the man’s shoulders and pushing him away hard, watching as he stumbled and fell, hitting his head on the corner of the bed post. John watched the blood drip down the man’s forehead and cheek before he covered it with his hand, John was fascinated by the way the blood looked bright red and contrasting brightly against the man’s pale skin.    “I told you to leave” he stated getting angrier by the minute. The man looked up at him again, as he huddled against the bed, fear masking his features and blood dripping onto his leg as he pushed farther away from John. 

“John, please What did I do? Whats wrong?” John moved, pulling the man up from the floor and dragging him down the stairs and into the sitting room pushing him away as soon as they were in the open space.    “Leave now” he said as he headed for the kitchen., he glanced around looking for something to do to stop the dark thoughts rolling through his mind. The glint of the overhead light off the stainless steel handle of the knifes caught his attention, the butcher block sitting so inconspicuously in the corner of the counter. John felt the smile turn up his mouth as he stared at the knifes and heard the man moving around in the flat, gather his clothes and getting dressed. John slipped a knife from the block, one he could easily hide , and he walked back into the sitting room the knife behind his back. John walked up to the man and touched his shoulder, “I’m sorry Martin, I just had a very bad dream and you being here, well it isn’t going to help me.” 

Martin turned looking at John warily, he took a step closer and looked at him, searching his face for signs of a lie, or of the anger that had caused the gash against his forehead. When he didn’t see any of those things he smiled slightly “So I can see you again, when you are feeling better?” he asked looking hopeful. John’s smile mirrored Martin’s though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He gripped the knife tightly as he moved forward to wrap his free arm around the man. 

“Yes I think that would be okay” he said as he tucked the knife into the pocket of his trousers, He wanted to feel the sensation of the knife sliding through tendons and muscles and into the warm body in front of him but he smiled again ‘best to wait’ he thought, realizing that trying to move a body and clean up the mess in the flat would be near impossible. “Come on, I’ll walk you home, it’s nice out tonight” he said reaching for his own jacket that was hanging by the door and zipping it up over the shirt he had on. They finally left the flat and strolled along in the early morning light, the streets were silent as the walked, and John fingered the knife in his pocket and smiled as he grabbed Martin’s hand. 

John pulled Martin into an alley, pushing him gently against a wall and pinning him there with his hips as he leaned in to kiss the man a little roughly. “I’m sorry” he muttered against Martins lips before looking up at him, the light flashing in his eyes, the smile he had been wearing turned devilish and his eyes became hooded as he pulled the knife from his pocket. “Why did you have to leave me Sherlock?” he asked pressing the knife against Martin’s neck, not seeing Martin but seeing Sherlock Holmes pinned to the wall. 

“I-I’m not She-Sherlock” Matin stuttered his eyes full of fear, and he struggled slightly, trying to overpower John but he was just pinned down harder. Martin felt his bladder release and the air was filled with the sickly sweet scent of Urine. 

“You are a bastard Holmes, for leaving me all alone” he growled moving the knife away from Martin’s neck, pulling it back and plunging it into the man’s stomach, John moved his hand covering Martin’s mouth to stifle the screams as he continued to pull the knife out and plunge it back in, stabbing over and over. John kept stabbing and muttering about getting revenge on Sherlock for leaving him to go crazy, for not realizing how John felt about him, for everything. 

When the light finally left Martin’s eyes and the body slumped against the wall John released him, The coat Martin had on making a slight scratching noise as it caught on the bricks. John stared at the knife, again fascinated by the blood dripping off the tip and making small plopping noises against the concrete. John stood there for a few minutes as he watched the blood a smile gracing his lips before he realized he needed to get moving, He bent down and wiped his hand and the knife on a dry spot of Martin’s coat before removing his own jacket and wrapping the knife in it. He bundled the jacket in his arms and sauntered out of the alley ignoring anyone who happened to look at him. He made it back to Baker street and stripped off everything he was wearing tossing them in a heap by the bathroom door as he moved to take a shower, He let the hot water beat against his skin washing away any trace of what had happened and he stayed there until the water got cold. John sighed moving back to his bed and laying down, closing his eyes as he came down from the euphoric high of murder. 

They say that when you lose someone close to you, it breaks something inside of you, but usually you can piece it back together if given enough time. John Watson didn’t just break, His mind shattered into so many little pieces as he watched His friend jump that he can’t be put back, and he went mad. John Watson, doctor turned killer, Taking his revenge on men and women who look like Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Back to 'Normal'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John spends the day getting back into the normal routine of things, even plans a lad's night and calls his therapist. Things are looking up for the doctor, or are they?

John woke the morning after the murder, his mind calmer than it had been in months. He got out of bed, not really remembering having gotten there, and padded to the kitchen turning on the coffee pot and searching for food. He decided against turning on the telly or the radio, not ready to hear if they had found Martin’s body yet or not. As he was cooking himself a quick breakfast he was grateful for Mrs. Hudson, who had kept food in the flat even if he didn’t eat it, he made a mental note to stop in and say hello and thank her for everything. John felt at peace for once, his mind was quiet and he felt like perhaps he could finally start to move on. 

After he ate breakfast he called the clinic, letting them know that he was getting better and that if they still needed a GP then he was willing to do what every he needed to get his job back. He also called his therapist, setting up a meeting as the anniversary of Sherlock’s death was fast approaching and after his isolation the thought it would be a good idea to see her again. John spent the rest of the morning making phone calls, talking to Molly and Greg even Mike to apologize for being so cut off from everyone, he even set up a Lad’s night with Lestrade and Stamford for later on in the week. John smiled after he got off the phone and stood going to head to the bathroom for another quick shower when his eyes landed on his bloody clothes from the previous night, his smile faltered as he moved to gather the clothes and tossed them into a garbage bag, he filled the bag with empty take away containers glad that the garbage would be picked up tomorrow. 

John headed down stairs with the garbage dumping it in the bins before he knocked on Mrs. Hudson’s door. Mrs. Hudson answered the door with a frown and a look that could kill, 

“John Hamish Watson I heard you last night and I do not appreciate having to listen to you” John blushed frowning as he stood in the doorway. 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Hudson, I’ll take more care to not disturb you in the future.” Mrs. hudson sighed and pulled him in to a brief hug 

“I’m just happy you are finally getting back to your old self John, I’ve been very worried about you” John smiled as he returned the brief hug. 

“I’m glad as well, it was getting pretty bad,” he said with a sigh “I’ve called my therapist and even scheduled a lads night for later this week.” He stepped inside when Mrs. Hudson gestured him in and sat down at the table, Mrs. Hudson returned the smile and joined him at her kitchen table. “I am sorry about last night” he said quietly “I wasn’t expecting to bring anyone back with me. Mrs. Hudson waged her hand in a dismissive gesture 

“It’s not important dear, I’m glad you met someone and its good to hear that you are going to speak with your therapist.” John nodded patting Mrs. Hudson’s hand, he frowned slightly as he listened to her though, knowing that despite how he was feeling things were far from better. 

“I know that everyone has been worried, I don’t know how many phone calls and visits I’ve ignore, I just couldn’t handle being around anyone that reminded me of Sherlock” John sighed glancing down before pushing himself to stand, “I’m sorry Mrs. H. but I’ve got to go the market and check on a few things, I’m just trying to get back into the swing of things.” Mrs. Hudson smiled and stood as well, hugging John again just a little longer, 

“Of course dear, come and see me again soon, okay.”  
John took his leave then and hailed a cab as he made his way to the curb, giving the cabbie the market name as he climbed in. He leaned against the seat and closed his eyes, he sighed softly as he relived the previous night, a smile crossing his features as he remembered the feeling of the knife sliding into Martin’s stomach and the warm coppery scent of blood as it stained the pavement. His attention was drawn back to the present when he heard the news on the radio. 

“Breaking News this morning, a young man was found dead, from several apparent knife wounds. No official statement has been made or the name of the deceased. Scotland Yard has been called in and DI Lestrade will be heading the Investigation.” 

John listened wide eyed looking like any other disgusted person would but underneath it all he was ecstatic and he felt that droning high starting again. After the news and a few words about what the world was coming to exchanged with the cabbie, John climbed out of the cab and headed into the market. He did the shopping and all of his other errands in the normal boring way that he had used to, the voices and the constant sadness were gone and he was for once it seemed at Peace.


	3. Lads Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go out for a night on the town, John's first real foray back into society since Sherlocks death. How will things go as he drinks with his friends?

John spent the next few days slowly getting back to his old self, He didn’t go out at night, didn’t kill again. The Yard came up with no clues to Martin’s murder but they continued to search, telling the press that they would search until they had exhausted all avenues. John went to his appointment with his therapist, feeling even better after talking to her, He called his sister to catch up and apologize for his behavior, he also asked after her wanting to know how she was doing. He cleaned the flat, though even after all this time, he still did not open the door to Sherlock’s room or touch his desk and chair, still unable to deal with the memories it would jog to the surface of his mind. 

Saturday finally rolled around and he was getting excited for his lads night, Greg phoned in the morning to confirm and he received a text from Mike giving him details which he forwarded to Greg. He took his time getting ready that evening, he wanted to look better than he knew he did. John had lost quite a bit of weight, he knew he probably had bags under his eyes from sleepless nights, but he put on a nice shirt and jumper as he did his hair he smiled at himself in the mirror feeling fairly calm. As the time rolled around for him to leave, he grabbed his jacket and headed out, stopping by to let Mrs. Hudson know he would be late, He stepped outside and hailed a cab, he stepped outside and hailed a cab, giving the cabbie the bar as he slid inside. 

John relaxed as the cab drove through the city, the anger and madness of the previous days was still there, but instead of the violent screaming it was now just a dull quiet roar. John was able to block the noise out almost completely as the cab came to a stop. John smiled, paid the cabbie and climbed out searching for his friends in the crowd outside the pub. 

Greg Lestrade was a wreck, This case had him stumped but he vowed to have a good time tonight for John. He had tried to get John out several times over the last year but he had given up a few months ago, so when John called him and apologized he jumped on the change to get him out. He was ecstatic when John agreed and spent the day grinning like a fool until they hard called with the news of the murdered man. Greg spotted John and waved calling out his name as he moved through the crowd. When he reached him he pulled him into a hug, “You made it, oh mate I’m glad you came out. I’ve been worried about you” John returned the hug with a smile.    
“I know I”m sorry, I just couldn’t deal with everything, I wasn’t ready to give him up I suppose” he said quietly. He spotted Mike and waved “Oi! Mike over here” he called out with a grin, Mike came over a huge smile on his face as he clapped him on the shoulder. 

“It’s good to see you out John” He grinned as they headed inside the pub. They grabbed a table and ordered their drinks, relaxing as the music swirled around them in the darkened bar, The bass beating a steady rhythm in theirs chests as they ordered drink after drink. A few hours later and they were all knackered, laughing at stupid jokes and finding their way to the dance floor, making right fools of themselves. Greg and Mike had found woman who were dancing close a few groups away and taken to dancing with them, their bodies moving to the beat as the lights flashed across their skin. John had found a tall woman, who had been making eyes at him from the bar, she was gorgeous, sleek dark hair that curled around her face and neck dropping to her shoulder, and multi colored eyes that seemed to change with the light in the bar. The most noticeable thing about her though was her cheekbones, they looked like Sherlocks high and the skiing pulled tight across them, IF he hadn’t known any better he would have thought this was Sherlock pressed tightly against him in disguise. 

John smiled when he finally caught sight of his mates fully engrossed in the woman they were dancing with and he turned to the woman pressing close to her, enjoying her warm body against his, he leaned his lips to her ear and whispered just loud enough for her to hear “Lets go somewhere quieter” he suggested and she nodded taking his hand. John was grateful he had taken a cab and not ridden with one of the lads because what was going to happen now, he wouldn’t want to make them wait. 

John hadn’t told anyone, not the therapist, not his friends about the voices and though they had been quiet all week they were now raging in his mind. The more he drank the louder they got and looking at this woman who looked so like his Sherlock They were raging, screaming that this woman /had/ to be Sherlock in disguise because /nobody/ else had those insane multicolored shifting eyes. HE smiled as they left the bar and they walked a few blocks before he pulled her into a dark alley, he pushed her gently against a wall in the shadows and pinned her before he brought his mouth roughly to hers and kissed her deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post the next chapter I've been having a rough time getting my story on paper. Thank you for bearing with me while I struggle to make this story how I see it in my head.


	4. Blood on His Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John strikes again after lads night, the voice to strong to contain and his need for release to strong, but his MO changes and we shall see where this leads...

John groaned as the woman's mouth wrapped around his cock his hands tangled in her dark curly hair. As the woman worked John with her tongue he couldn't help but picture Sherlock doing this, on his knees working him to the brink with his mouth, John pulled the woman roughly up pushing her skirt to her hips. He pulled her pants own and groaned his hand tangling back in her hair pulling her head back exposing her throat. He lined his throbbing cock with her entrance and sucked a bruise on her neck as he enter her roughly. 

The woman groaned her hands gripping John's back as he thrust deeply, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifted her wrapping her legs around his waist and holding her agains the wall. Her soft mewls turned to ragged groans, ripping from her throat with every thrust, "God yes" she moaned "Right there fuck" she leaned down to kiss John and he crashed their lips together tugging and nipping as he pounded into her. He was close to climax but he had a little surprise. 

The knife glinted in the dim light as his breathing grew ragged, when his orgasm crashed around him, the lights blinking out momentarily he plunged the knife deep in her side as he felt his load shoot deep inside her. The warm blood seeped down her side as he continued to thrust finishing his orgasm before he pulled out and dropped the moaning woman on the ground. He stood over her, blood dripping from the blade as he leaned down and shot her a sinister grin. 

"This is for leaving me Sherlock" he muttered before stabbing her with the knife three times in the stomach, knowing he had nicked at least the majority of her vital organs and she would not be long for this world. John grinned again as the light dimmed in her eyes, and her dying breath rattled in her lungs, he took the knife and carved two simple letters in her thigh "SH." He wiped the blade clean on her clothes making sure he was clean as well while he adjusted his clothing back into place, he slipped the knife into his pocket and walked back to the street. He hailed a cab to take him home, back to Baker St. 

John sighed as the cab drove through the brightly lit London strides. when the cab finally pulled up at Baker street he smiled, This would always be home even without Sherlock. He would smiled when he laid eyes on the brass knocker just turned slightly askew. 

He paid the cabbie and climbed out, pulling out his phone he sent off a text to Greg letting him know that he had made it back to the flat alive. He walked in quietly so he wouldn't disturb Mrs. Hudson and slipped the key into the lock. He went inside, ignoring the twinge of sadness when he saw the abandoned experiments on the kitchen table and the tightly closed door of Sherlocks room. He sat down with a sigh, his mind quiet and he smiled as his eyes drifted closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting I had the chapter written and then realized it wasn't exactly finished and then I went on vacation with my family so it go postponed, hopefully chapter five won't take so long to post. Thank you for reading, this has given me hope that I am actually a decent writer. Love you all bunches.
> 
> Also sorry for this one being so short but its been a hectic few weeks and I was having a hard time writing this chapter.


End file.
